whenever she could, she’s been here. When she became ill she was here practically full-time, only returning to Edinburgh long enough to reassure me there was no need for me to keep an eye on her. I thought she was staying here because she needed to keep an eye on you. I thought this was simply another financial enterprise. But tonight I spent a little time with your guests and some rather good whisky—’
‘I didn’t leave any good stuff behind.’
‘I made an emergency dash. I spent a little time with them and they talked about why they’ve come back every year since you started running the B & B. They talked about how they and my grandmother talked about you and they talked about fun. How you and Eileen enjoyed each other’s company, but that they’d always been welcome to join you. How Eileen sat in the library like a queen every night and presided over the whisky and talked about the estate as it’s been, about my grandfather’s ancestors and hers. It seems it didn’t matter how often they heard it, they still loved it. And they talked about you, Jeanie, always in the background, always quietly careful that Eileen didn’t do too much, that she didn’t get cold, that she didn’t trip on her stupid dogs. And then I looked at the wages and saw how little you’ve been paid. And Elspeth...’
‘Who’s Elspeth?’ She sounded winded.
‘My secretary. I asked her to do some long-overdue background checks. With the information you gave me this afternoon the rest was easy to find. She tells me that, as well as almost killing you that last night in his unpaid-for sports car, Alan died in debt up to his ears. He left you committed to paying them, even though most of them were to gambling houses and casinos. But somehow you seem to have become jointly responsible. I know Eileen would have paid them off, but they were vast debts, eye-watering debts, and you refused to let her help. You declared yourself bankrupt and then you accepted a minimal wage to stay on at the castle.’
‘You have—’
‘Been learning. Yes, I have. I’ve learned that this marriage arrangement gives you one more year in the castle but that’s all it gives you. I’m still not sure why you agreed to marry me, but I’m pathetically grateful you did. Jeanie, I’m so sorry I misjudged you. Please come home.’
‘It’s not my home.’
‘It is a home, though,’ he said, gently now. ‘That’s what I didn’t get. You made it Eileen’s home and for that I can never thank you enough.’
‘I don’t want your thanks. Eileen let me stay. That was enough.’
‘And I know I don’t have the right, but I’m asking you to stay longer.’
‘But not as your wife.’
‘Legally as my wife. We both know that’s sensible.’
‘I don’t do...sensible. I’m not very good at it. I have three dumb marriages to prove it.’
‘Then do gut instinct,’ he told her. ‘Do what you think’s right. Think back to the reasons you married me in the first place.’
‘That’s blackmail again.’
‘It’s not. I know I stand to gain a fortune by this transaction. You stand to gain nothing. That’s what I hadn’t understood. But we can work things out. If the company ends up in my name, I can buy the castle from the bankruptcy trustees. I intended to buy it from you anyway, but I can arrange for you to be paid more—’
‘I don’t want anything,’ she snapped. ‘Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand that there’s nothing you can offer me that I want?’
‘You do want another year in the castle. At the end of the year—’
‘Don’t even say it,’ she told him. ‘I will not be bought.’
Silence. What else could he say?
He could fix things if she let him. Duncairn Enterprises was extensive enough to soak up the purchase of the castle at market price. He could also settle a substantial amount on Jeanie when her bankruptcy was discharged, but he knew instinctively that saying that now would count for nothing. Right now, he had enough sense to know it would make things worse.
This woman—his wife—had married for a reason. She knew the good the company did. She knew how much the castle and the company meant to Eileen. He just had to hope those reasons were still strong enough.
‘Jeanie, do you really want to get on that ferry tomorrow?’ he asked. ‘The dogs want you back at the castle. The guests want you. This does seem like cutting off your nose to spite your face. Please?’
‘So...it’s not just the porridge.’
‘Not even the black pudding.’
‘Alasdair...’
‘There’ll be no strings,’ he said and held up his hands. ‘I promise. Things will be as you imagined them when you agreed to this deal. You’ll have a year’s employment. You can use the year to sort what you want to do next and then you can walk away. There’ll be no obligation on either of our parts.’
‘No more insults?’
‘I won’t even comment on your footwear.’
She managed to smile again at that. It was faint but it was there.
And then there was silence. It was so deep and so long that Dougal opened the door again. He stood uncertainly on the doorstep. He made to say something but didn’t. The silence lengthened. Finally he was dragged inside again by Maggie.
Maggie, at least, must understand the value of silence, Alasdair thought. The last light went off inside. Even if, as Alasdair suspected, Maggie was still lurking, she was giving them the pretence that they were alone.
The night was still and warm. The numbers of nights like this on Duncairn could be counted on less than a man’s fingers. Everyone should be out tonight, he thought. The stars were hanging brilliant in the sky, as if they existed in a separate universe from the stars he struggled to see back in Edinburgh. The tide was high and he could hear the waves slapping against the harbour wall. Before dawn the harbour would be a hive of activity as the island’s fishermen set to sea, but for now the village had settled back to sleep. There was no one here but this woman, standing still and watchful.
Trying to make her mind up whether to go or stay.
‘Can I have the dogs?’ she said at last, and he blinked.
‘The dogs?’
‘At the end of the year. That’s been the thing that’s hurt most. I haven’t had time to find a job where I can keep them, and I can’t see them living in an apartment in Edinburgh with you. If I stay, I’ll have twelve months to source a job where they can come with me.’
‘You’d agree to keeping on with the marriage,’ he said, cautiously because it behoved a man to be cautious, ‘for the dogs?’
‘What other reason would there be?’
‘For the company? So Duncairn Enterprises will survive?’
‘That’s your reason, not mine. Dogs or nothing, My Lord.’
‘Don’t
